


Fuck It

by wongweed



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: F/M, mention of breeding, reader - Freeform, unbeta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:03:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28857045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wongweed/pseuds/wongweed
Summary: Lucas Wong is hot. You want to rail him down.
Relationships: Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas/Reader
Kudos: 26





	Fuck It

**Author's Note:**

> excuse any errors or typos. did this in one sitting and three hours altogether. thank you!

Lucas Wong. The new Physics teacher appointed by the board. He handsome and got a charming personality as well. It has not been more than four months since he joined, yet he has all the teaching faculty, campus staff, and students awed. He is adored, admired, and loved equally. He gets letters from the girls and few boys as well which he handles maturely.

Lucas is like magic— a gentle flame, so warm and bright, his brilliant smile lighting up the room, his boisterous laughs so reassuring. His humbleness, kindness, and reliability; a breather of freshness in the tiring mundane lives of many. He's different.

He makes everyone feel alive. And everyone wants him. Simply, like everyone you want him too which is beyond your plans. You never considered love or physical gratification since you started your career, running on a one track path to success and financial security.

But here you are, utterly and helplessly, simping for a man in his mid twenties, indulging in indecent behaviour in the confines of your own home because you have no clue how the process of love works or lack of love.

You never approached people for love. Those nights —or days in some cases— were about hit and miss, home run in a hotel room. They were simple business. Yes or no. No strings attached.

They were never these things— these inexplicable things which are definitely caused by unbalanced hormones acting up. This ridiculous urge to do embarrassing things: what’s the appeal of kissing someone’s cheek or eyes or ears or fingertips or — lord, these nonsensical urges which comes with the erratic beat of your heart, clammy hands, cold sweat on the skin, and the horrible itch between leg. The itch so terrible, it requires multiple trips to the bathroom, numerous sheets of tissues, and changing of panties.

Yes, it has gotten so bad that it is embarrassing. A grown ass woman wetting her panties because of a man. An attractive man. A man who also has a great sweet, and, for the love of Satan, a spicy, personality.

The first time you felt anything mild (it was a roaring tide kind of thing but nobody needs to know, especially you refused to accept the reality) for Lucas Wong was that time when it has been a week and couple of days since his arrival and finally the schedule was free to throw in a welcome party for the new comers, Lucas included. There were alcohol and food, the room was hot because of cigarette smokes and people packed in a tiny room. It was one of those mood: tipsy and happy and good time.

Everyone’s eyes were on Lucas Wong. A magic trick, he said he learned it from his senior. Lucas apparently respected his senior a lot fucking much. It was attractive. Lucas was eager like a puppy, ready to show its new found toy from the unknown place to its peer. He was loud, his voice octaves lower, heavy, oscillating in one’s heart and bones with each syllables Lucas uttered. He was deft with his hands, fancy magic tricks, but he also was a klutz which is bewildering.

How was that even possible?

Lucas messed up, spilled the cups of alcohol on someone, knocked a glass off the table, or slapped someone’s face— he would become frustrated quick, biting back crude syllables, bite his lips, squint his eyes, and grapple his thighs.

Everyone laughed happily, consoling the newly graduated teacher, babied him, patted his back, hugged his shoulder. No one paid attention to the miniscule changes in his features. But you did. Because you were curious (or the sign that you have been lying to yourself for a long time).

Lucas was holding in.

The man who is crowned as the gentlest soul was holding in.

It was none of your business but who would tell that to your subconscious? The scene kept invading your thoughts unbidden, providing details you refused to acknowledge back then at meeting. The little things you refused to pay attention to — the study column of hiss neck, the jugular veins popping off after every mishaps, biceps filling up the sleeves, the chokehold grip of his fist.

The next day you woke up with ruined panties, an uncomfortable tautness in your abdomen, sweat drenched, and vague memories of your dream —nightmare to be exact. Taking care of yourself was a chore at morning, an unsatisfactory quickie with your favourite toy, lacking in every sense.

It wasn’t a hot and throbbing mass of flesh fucking into your core to absolution.

Being unfashionably late to work wasn’t new. Having Lucas Wong present at the staff room was new. And Lucas Wong giving you the knowing sly smile was terrifying.

You had to run to bathroom to make sure your appearance wasn’t indecent. It wasn’t. That motherfucker.

Days passed by without any major concerns except Lucas has tried again and again to get closer to you. Or so you assumed because why would a man of his calibre want to be around you? You who is not so extraordinary? You are as normal as any working adult in their late twenties — work diligently, hook ups on weekends if you have the luck and energy, do your chores, and drink a little every night.

The most important thing is you don’t even try to appeal to anyone at your work — during the internship work the relationship with your colleague left a lasting impression.

It is unsettling. Lucas has no flaw so far, nor does he disrespect in any manner. He is being him. Amiable, buoyant, sweetest shit kind of thing. He is tactful, far smarter than he lets on. Sometimes Lucas buys snacks for everyone and exactly what they like —it’s a lot to remember.

Lucas Wong is so fucking nice, it is impossible to ignore the human being completely. He wedges himself gently into the crook and corners of your mind, fills the tiny empty spaces of your consciousness with his smiles, the way he talks, acts, cares for people around him. And then he invades your thoughts.

He owns your space, makes a home out it, treats you such a good care that by the time you realize he isn’t supposed to be there, that this is your home, he has you pinned on your fucking bed, trapped you under his solid frame. He sits heavy on your mind, his husky whispers, guttural grunts, his amused laughter, his coarse touch, his warmth, his heat, and the searing arousal invading your body to the edge.

And all it takes is a mere command. “Come, baby!”

Waking up to your soiled panty is not pleasant. It’s frustrating even when it still feels empty. More. And it is maddening when the face of Lucas Wong flashes across your vision, bringing back the uncomfortable throbbing between your legs.

The weekend comes. Saturday night’s usual drinking with your friends at a bar and then find someone to spend the night, get this itch off your skin. A good fuck, long due.

Who would have thought Lucas Wong still would invade your mind, make you wish he was there and not some tall, tanned dude you hooked up with.

It was disrespectful toward the partner.

Hooking up turns up to a unavailable option. And you are back to where it started.

The more you familiarise yourself with the environment, the less affective its impact. Thus begins your acquaintanceship with Lucas in where you actively initiate conversation and other things. The assumption that being around him, seeing him more, building kinship will end your misery backfires.

It becomes counter productive. Instead of being immune to Lucas, it works as defamiliarization.

“What’s wrong?” Lucas asks, dropping the carry bag atop the table. He has brought snacks.

There is no one beside Lucas and you because you were stupid and thought being friends would help your lost cause. It did not. He is your friend and you still want to eat him up.

“Nothing..... actually, what kind of cosmetic you are using? Your lips looks so......so...nice.” The awkward laugh following suit doesn’t help.

“Oh, I use this. Here let me give you a try of this.” Lucas is friendly, eager, and breaks personal space boundary. He is like that with everyone.

You should not feel anything off. But it feels different. It’s definitely uncommon to be this close. The subtle scent of his aftershave and detergent of his pressed white shirt. It’s not common.

You taste the lip balm he so expertly applied on your lips. What it would be like to kiss—

“Thanks.” You smile, pressing your legs together.

Fuck.

“You are welcome.” Lucas is all smiles. He also unnecessarily reaches to tuck your stray strands behind your ear.

Is that a common Lucas thing to do? Whom should I ask?

—

It’s been two months and some days since your miserable plan failed. Lucas has built a goddamn apartment complex in your head. Save for the time when work load is demanding and other affairs, he has you thinking all the little things about him.

Lucas’s dimple is cute. His canines are cuter. His eyes looks like glossy boba beads when he’s the happiest. His brows knit when he’s confused or upset. His voice sounds kinda deep and sexy and cute and fucking kissable at morning — morning calls somehow became a thing. He likes strawberry —his obsession with strawberry lip balm. He has been using fabric softener: a more sweet and calming fragrance.

Alternatively, it is getting hard to ignore Lucas or deny the unadulterated attraction.

It doesn’t help that Lucas is quite close with you. He gives zero fuck to personal space and it’s in negative when it comes to your personal space. The man doesn’t care where he is or what time, he simply comes around like a overgrown giant pup, seeking your attention, and always there to help you. It is kind of misleading.

It’s hard to believe he is into you.

“Hey, you wanna go clubbing with us? I mean my friends. There are girls too.” Lucas asks over lunch break.

Is that an invitation to hook up? Is that it? It’s so fucking hard to read you.

“Okay.” You smile, stomach churning.

These are not butterflies but moths in your gut.

Alcohol supposed to help nervousness. It supposedly makes your blood boil, heart courageous, and wreck it. But it hasn’t so far. The girls glass of rocks and you still feel conscious of the Lucas dresses finely sitting next to you by the bar.

“Are you not going to join them?” You lean over his shoulder, taking in a quick note of his cologne. It’s nice, lasts on the tip of your tongue. It’s kissable. Lips on his neck, sucking on the bobbing Adam— fuck.

“No. I wanted them to meet you.” He hums back. There is something in his eyes, or the lopsided smile riding his lips: he is hiding something.

Well, damn, its been three months since this whatever has started.

“Why? Do you want me—” You pause deliberately to finish your drink, hop off the bar stool, dusting off your skirt.

It is an arrow shot into the dark. If it hits, it hits. There’s nothing else to loose.

“And if I say, I was hoping to—” Lucas begins.

You don’t allow him to continue.

You’re immediately onto him, tip toeing while dragging him down by the front of his shirt to meet your mouth half way for a searing kiss. It is a clash of mouth, a little painful at first but it doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter when your months of want is finally met. It doesn’t matter when he tastes as sweet as the lip balm he uses, feels so soft against your lips, his breath hot against yours. And he is grunting so deliciously.

It doesn’t matter when Lucas large palms are attached to your hips, pulling you eagerly between his legs, cages you in, his mouth hot and needy on yours, begging for an access.

And you allow. You want Lucas. So, so, so, so, so bad.

“Fuck—” You hiss, kissing away. “We need to go.”

Lucas doesn’t say much. He pays the bill and drags you out. “There’s a hotel block away.”

“You came prepared?” You laugh and snuggle to his side, grabbing at his butt. Which regretfully isn’t that full.

“I had hopes. It wasn’t easy being around you. I wanted to fuck you so bad since that day.” Lucas grunts, nose scrunched.

“The day I fucked myself with a dildo and was late?” You chuckle. It is a playful remark. Of so it is to you.

“The—”

“Oh!”

There is no time wasted on foreplay. It can wait. Another time, if there is another time. Whatever has been going between Lucas and you, it’s root lies at the hunger for sexual gratification. Perhaps, a bit of personality as well. Or both.

“I want you to fuck me like you mean it.” You are bare and sitting face to face on Lucas’ lap, your legs curled around his hips.

You take in his appearance.

Lucas’ bare figure glows beautifully under the warm light. His skin is covered in sweat, his musky scent strong. He looks soft with his tousled sweaty hair, blown eyes, and swollen lips. He is eager to please, eyes on you, as he works his fingers to stretch you open.

“I will. I’ve meaning to mess your inside up. I want to fill you up with my cum. So fucking much. I want to put babies into your stomach. God, I wanna breed you so bad.” Lucas rumbles, grabbing at your bust. He squeezes the mound mercilessly, dragging out small whimpers out of you.

Did I ever mention about breeding cause—

True to his words, he isn’t gentle. He pinches your nipples, bites at your shoulder, wet kisses against you skin, fucking your velvets open with his fingers knuckles deep.

Lucas’ fingers are long. Too fucking long. They hit the spot, sending shivers throughout your frame.

“Lucas. Lucas. Fuck me. Make me choke on your cock.”

Lucas follows suit. He pushes you to lie down on the, hoists your legs around his neck and kneels. There’s lube poured above your folds, cold and unforgiving, tingles down your spine. He grabs at your velvet, parts them open as he drives his cock deep, deep, deep into your cavity.

It’s huge. It feels good. So fucking good to be full. The coldness of the lube is gone within seconds when Lucas begins to fuck into you.

Lucas grabs at your thighs, holds you firm and onto place as he rams in with a precise and practiced pace. He slams in to the hilt, grunting, and stays nestled for seconds before slowly pulling out. And repeat.

“Faster. More. More. I want to fucking come. Fuck. Don’t stop.” You whine, back arching off. The feeling of getting closer is there. “Almost—”

Lucas is a considerate man. He gets the hint. His pace kind of goes erratic, purposeful thrusts against your spot while he tries to rub your clitoris. He thumbs and presses, doesn’t stop even after your pathetic pleas of, “No. No more.”

Lucas doesn’t stop until you spent and empty, panting and whining. And then he picks up a maddening pace. He fucks into you until he comes, rides out his orgasm.

Lucas is kind. He gathers you in his arms and makes a quick trip to the bathroom. He washes you clean under the shower and helps you get dressed up.

“Want to go to my place!”

“Another?”

“If you want."

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/lumintine)   
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